The Fashion of Panic
by katebxo
Summary: Kurt Hummel was working on some new designs when a call from Mount Sinai Hospital interrupts him. Set in the A Broken Fall 'verse. future!Klaine.


This story is based in the "A Broken Fall" 'verse, but you don't really need to read any of the other stories in that 'verse to read this. But of course, if you'd like to, be my guest and let me know what you think!

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><p>Kurt twirled a plum coloured pencil between his fingers, pondering the sketch on the pad of paper in front of him. The quickly drawn model that Kurt had perfected during his first week at FIT was sporting a flowing gown with swirling colours of navy, plum, green, cerulean and sky blue. That morning, Kurt had woken up inspired after dreaming of the peacock feathers that a friend of his had used for the theme of her beautiful wedding last weekend. It had been so long since Kurt had drawn a piece for his women's collection, <em>elizabeth by Kurt Hummel<em> , that he was surprised with the perk of inspiration. He had been much more focused on his men and women's collection, _k.e.h by Kurt Hummel_ and his men's collection, _blaine by Kurt Hummel_ for the past couple of seasons, that this had been quite a change.

Kurt drew a couple more sweeping lines of plum, smudging the colour with his fingertips. He sat back and tilted his head. _Perfection._ He added the sketch to the other 3 he had drawn this morning in his fit of inspiration.

_Spring Collection 2020 here I come!_

Kurt threaded his fingers together and cracked his knuckles while stretching out his hands after 3 hours of intense sketching. He heard the phone ring distantly at his assistant's desk and secretly hoped it was a call that was much better suited to his advertising or sales department. Kurt was very lucky that his designs had taken off a year out of college, enough that he had a whole floor of a prestigious building in Manhattan for his company and even had different departments. Even after 4 years, Kurt still went home to Blaine and wondered how in the world had he been so lucky to have his own fashion house and was known all over the world for his designs. Or how lucky he was that his designs had been shown in Paris and Milan and Japan. Or how lucky he was to have enough money to support his father and Carole back home so they could retire. Or how lucky he was able to donate thousands of dollars each year to LGTB organizations. Or how lucky he was to marry the love of his life right out of college and they've been together for a total of 10 years but it seemed like 100 in the best possible way. And the best part of it all was that _he was only 27 years old._

_ Eat that, Karofsky._

A series of sharp knocks on the frosted glass panes of the French doors that closed his office off from the rest of the floor knocked him out of his thoughts. His assistant, Heather opened the door and poked her head in.

"Kurt, Mount Sinai Hospital is on line one for you." Kurt's heart plummeted.

"What's it about?"

"I'm not sure, they wouldn't tell me anything." She gave him a worried look and left, allowing him some privacy.

The button for line one on Kurt's desk phone was flashing an angry red. He had no idea what was going on, but surely it couldn't be good. He took a deep breath, picked up the receiver and pressed the button.

"Kurt Hummel."

"Mr. Hummel? My name is Sarah and I'm calling from the Mount Sinai Emergency Room. You're listed as the emergency contact for a Mr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel. We're just calling to notify you that Mr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel was admitted to the emergency room and that we require some information about his health insurance. It seems that he doesn't have his insurance card on him, so if you could bring a copy that would be great."

Kurt stopped breathing after the girl on the phone had mentioned "Emergency room." Kurt's mind was whirling in a hurricane of "_ohmygodohmygodohmygod, he's dead, he's injured, he's dead oh my god Blaine is dead I can't handle this oh my god."_

"Mr. Hummel?" Kurt snapped back to reality.

"Is he alright? What happened? Is he dead?" he panicked into the phone.

"Mr. Hummel I can't divulge that information over the phone."

"I'm his goddamn husband and you can't tell me why he's in the hospital?"

"Mr. Hummel it's against hospital policy, I'm sorry," she pleaded.

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in ten minutes." He slammed down the phone without saying goodbye.

Kurt stood up from the desk and shoved his sketches into his leather folder, put his pencils away in their case, grabbed his cellphone after quickly checking to see if there were any missed called or messages (there were none) and shoved everything in his messenger bag and ran out of the office.

"Blaine's at Mount Sinai, I gotta go," he shouted as he ran to the elevator and punched the down button no more than ten times.

Without responding to any of the inquiring questions that his employees called out to him, he climbed into the arriving elevator and punched the button for the main floor.

_Breathe, Kurt, breathe,_ he thought, trying to calm himself down. It didn't do any good. The negative thoughts were still whirling around in his brain.

As the elevator arrived on the main floor, Kurt pushed past the people in the lobby, not even pausing to say goodbye to the friendly Security Guard he brought a coffee too every morning and bolted outside. Kurt placed his thumb and index finger in his mouth and let out a high pitched whistle as he held out his hand for a cab. Thankfully he didn't have to wait any longer than 30 seconds for a yellow cab to arrive.

He climbed into the car, "Mount Sinai Hospital. I'll pay you double if we can get there in less than ten minutes." The cab driver stepped on the gas. Kurt tapped his toes nervously, checking his cell phone every 3 seconds for a new message. The cab driver stuck to his promise and dropped Kurt off at the hospital in less than 7 minutes. He threw a 50$ bill at the driver and ran into the emergency department doors.

The girl at the triage desk was wearing scrubs with fuzzy kittens on them and she was smacking bubble gum between her teeth.

"Blaine Anderson-Hummel. My husband. He was just admitted," he let out breathlessly.

The girl just looked at him for a minute. "Go on through those doors and talk to the nurse at the desk."

Kurt didn't even pause to say thank you before he was rushing through the sliding doors. At the next desk, a woman who looked a lot more professional was looking at some paperwork. Kurt walked right up to the desk and the nurse looked up.

"You must be Mr. Hummel."

Kurt's shoulders slumped. "Yes."

"Mr. Hummel, do you have a copy of your husband's insurance card on you?"

"Yes, I do," he paused to dig for his wallet in his messenger bag. Once he and Blaine had gotten married, they decided to each carry a copy of each other's health insurance information in case of an emergency. "Can't I see Blaine first? I don't even know what's going on right now and…and…" his voice was increasing in pitch as his hysteria started to take over.

"Mr. Hummel, it'll only take a minute to fill out the necessary forms and then I would be happy to show you to your husband, alright?"

Kurt sighed resolutely, trying not to cry in front of the nurse. _She's only doing her job, these papers are important so they can help Blaine get better, _he thought.

The nurse took the card that Kurt dug out from his wallet and scanned it. She printed the necessary forms out and asked Kurt to fill in a few areas and ensure that the information was correct. Either Kurt's adrenaline was pumping thoroughly through his veins, or it really wasn't that long of a process, because within minutes the nurse led Kurt through another set of doors into the ER.

She walked past at least twenty beds partitioned with ugly blue curtains until finally she stopped. "Here we are, Mr. Hummel," she said and spread the curtain open.

He braced himself to see Blaine covered in blood and cuts and bruises with tubes everywhere and almost fell over in shock when he saw Blaine sitting up in the bed, laughing at something that Finn said. The two of them were both wearing ratty t-shirts and basketball shorts and Blaine's curls were incredibly dishevelled. They were both smiling and laughing and Kurt's swore his heart stopped because all he could do was stand there and stare with his mouth open. Finn and Blaine both stopped laughing when they noticed Kurt standing there in complete and utter shock.

"Kurt…" Blaine called out precariously.

Kurt's eyes flicked to Blaine when he called out his name, but all Kurt could focus on was his idiot step-brother. Kurt stomped over and promptly punched Finn _hard_ in the arm.

"Dude! What the hell?"

"FINN HUDSON, YOU IDIOT! I THOUGHT MY HUSBAND WAS DEAD AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN FUCKING CALL ME TO TELL ME HE WAS FINE. OH MY GOD I HATE YOU!"

"Dude," Finn said in a terrified voice, "Me and Blaine were at the gym playing basketball when I kind of knocked him over by accident. He just dislocated his shoulder…he's fine. They didn't tell you?"

"NO FINN, THEY DIDN'T TELL ME. THEY AREN'T ALLOWED TO TELL YOU THINGS OVER THE PHONE BECAUSE OF THE HOSPITAL POLICY."

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I thought they would tell you…" Finn said softly. "I would have called but I didn't know…"

Kurt looked over at Blaine, who seemed to be favouring his right shoulder but otherwise looked fine, and promptly burst into tears. As he started to sob, Blaine and Finn just looked worriedly at each other.

Without even having to ask, Blaine opened his left arm, inviting Kurt over on the bed. Kurt kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed and tucked his head promptly into Blaine's neck, trying to avoid jostling Blaine's hurt shoulder.

"I thought you were dead!" He cried into Blaine's neck.

"Kurt, I'm fine, it's okay. They just have to reset my shoulder and that's it. I mean, I'll be wearing a sling for a while and I probably will have to take sick leave from work, but otherwise I'll be fine," Blaine rambled, trying to soothe his husband.

After a while, Kurt stopped crying and kissed Blaine on the lips. "I'm sorry about that, I was just so terrified Blaine, you don't even know…"

"I know," Blaine said. "I would have felt the exact same way if it were you." Kurt let out a deep sigh and snuggled back into Blaine's side.

"You're going to pay for this Hudson, take my word for it," Kurt mumbled angrily in Finn's direction.

Later on that afternoon after Blaine had woken up from the drug induced haze the doctor had put him in so he could reset Blaine's shoulder (the event in which Kurt had hid his face in his brother's neck, who he hadn't forgiven, but just so happened to be there to distract him from the doctor putting what seemed like unnecessary force into putting Blaine's arm back into its socket, all while making a grunting noise and then hearing a loud pop), Kurt sat on the bed with Blaine once again. Finn had left a little while after the doctor had come in and reset Blaine's shoulder. Blaine was completely passed out and he was kind of scared to be alone with Kurt at the moment.

"You know," Blaine said, "I'm going to need a lot of help now that I can't use my arm…remind you of anything?"

Kurt just hummed in response. "At least it's not a cast."

"Nope. But you do know what this means, right?"

Kurt looked over at Blaine curiously, "What?"

"More excuses to shower together," he replied cheekily. Kurt just rolled his eyes and laughed.

"You're lucky you're so good looking and I can look past that cheesy comment."

"It's true though."

Kurt nodded. "I guess it'll give me more of an excuse to work from home too…" Kurt looked at his husband mischievously.

"Hmm…I wonder what we can get up to with this bum shoulder of mine…"

"We can work it out, don't worry," Kurt said. Blaine laughed and they kissed once more. Kurt's heart was beating for a completely different reason now and he couldn't be more thankful for it.

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><p>Author's Note:<p>

Shouldn't I be working on Don't Push Me or something? Things I need to mention: I don't even know what this title is (I suck at making titles). Also I know nothing about fashion. At all. Kurt would be ashamed of me. However, please just kind of ignore my lack of knowledge about fashion and just kind of imagine the sketches that fashion designers make with the funny, faceless mannequin things. Also, I'm pretty sure really didn't need to throw a 50$ bill at the cab driver but…yeah. I've never been to New York, or have even taken a cab before (well, we don't really have them here like they do in New York or Toronto; we have to call for a taxi and wait forever for them to come). Also, I do not know anything about the health insurance stuff in the States. I was kind of just thinking of our health cards that you just scan and all your medical information pops up.) If you want to read a little more about my head canon and backstory for our boys' future, go ahead and read it here: htt p :/ rnstudent andagleek .tumblr. com / post / 11480105420 /the-headcanon -behind -the-fashion -of -panic


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